


Leaving is never an option among friends

by silvermoongirl10



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: 5 + 1 Fic, Aramis being a hero, Aramis telling Porthos to leave him, Athos is fed up with the idiots he calls friends, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Porthos and Aramis annyoing Athos and loving every second of it, Porthos hating how Aramis expects him to leave, Porthos not listening to Aramis, Porthos rescuing Aramis, Treville not knowing if he wants to know what's happened, brothers in arms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-08 20:49:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1955682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silvermoongirl10/pseuds/silvermoongirl10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Porthos helps Aramis through various sticky situations. Each time Aramis tells Porthos to leave him behind and each time Porthos must convince his friend that he will never leave Aramis behind.<br/>And the one time Aramis finally understands Porthos does not abandon his friends, no matter what mess they get into.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fall

 

" **Friendship is one mind in two bodies" – Mencius.**

* * *

Aramis was smirking to himself as he listened to Porthos' complaining as they stepped over branches through a forest searching for an escaped thief. A group of their fellow Musketeers had chased a thief through the streets of Paris before the man had run out of the city and into the nearby forest. Usually they would have let him go and keep an eye out for him in case he tried to steal again, but this time he had stolen from a Duke who had been invited to the Palace by the King. So Treville had ordered a mass search for the thief. While Aramis had been unhappy at the prospect of spending a hot summer's afternoon traipsing through a forest, Porthos' constant curses as he tripped over branches entertained him greatly.

He stopped and turned to see Porthos pulling his cloak from a bush, "Having fun there?"

"Be quiet Aramis" glared Porthos, as he gave one more big pull setting his cloak free of the bush, but sending him stumbling into another. "Argh!"

Aramis stifled a laugh and walked over to his friend and set to work setting Porthos' cloak free from yet another branch. "Hold still!" commanded Aramis as he looked up at Porthos, "Struggling is only going to make this harder."

"Just hurry up" muttered Porthos; instead of meeting Aramis' gaze he scanned the surrounding area for any sign of the thief. Treville had given them orders that if they were unable to find the thief they were to return to a disused barn he had commandeered as a meeting point.

"There all free" said Aramis as he got to his feet, Porthos smiled in thanks, but his smile vanished when Aramis added, "Just don't go stumbling into anymore bushes."

"Come on" muttered Porthos and he began picking his way _carefully_ through the forest.

Soon they were walking alongside an embankment which steeply led to a hollow in the middle of the forest. They made sure they walked a few feet from the edge, neither having any intention of falling down the embankment and into the hollow. With the various branches and rocks sticking out it looked like it would hurt a lot, not even the long grass or moss looked like it would cushion the fall. At a snap of a twig not too far away they crouched and slowly continued walking, they saw the flash of a dark jacket which they knew didn't belong to a Musketeer.

"Stop!" shouted Aramis as he sprang up to his full height, but the thief ran, Porthos took after him. Aramis wasn't too far behind, but as he put one foot down the earth beneath his foot crumbled and broke away sending him tumbling down the embankment. "Ahh!-" his yell cut off when he whacked his head on a branch knocking him unconscious.

* * *

Porthos was charging after the thief and he was gaining ground, but then he heard a yell. One he knew was Aramis, he stopped and turned to look behind him, he then heard Aramis' yell cut off. He panicked because he couldn't _see_ Aramis.

"Aramis!" bellowed Porthos as he looked from side to side; he heard the thief's pounding feet as he made his getaway. But he didn't care about that. Aramis was _hurt_ and he didn't know _where he was_.

He then looked at the path he had taken chasing after the thief and noticed part of it was gone. His eyes widened when he realized that the ground must have given way sending Aramis falling down the embankment. With the _sharp branches and rocks_.

"Oh no. Oh no. Please no" chanted Porthos as he jogged cautiously towards where Aramis had fallen. The rocks and branches could have caused serious injuries to Aramis, and that Aramis hadn't responded to him only caused his worry to increase tenfold.

He reached the edge of the embankment and peered over it, there he saw Aramis sprawled out not moving.

" _ARAMIS!_ "

* * *

Aramis flickered open his eyes groaning as the sunlight aggravated his head. As he came more into awareness and the ringing in his ears began to fade he became more aware of the throbbing pain in his left leg. And then he heard Porthos calling his name and he opened his eyes fully and looked up at the figure of Porthos at the top of the embankment.

"Porthos" called Aramis in a croaky voice,

"Aramis! Oh thank God!" exclaimed Porthos,

"Why are you thanking Him?" wondered Aramis, not really remembering what had just happened to him.

"Because you're alive you idiot" stated Porthos, as he looked down at his friend trying to judge how badly injured the other Musketeer was.

"That's always a good thing" responded Aramis as he tried sitting up.

"Yes it is" nodded Porthos in relief, from what he could see Aramis didn't appear to be too badly injured.

As Aramis sat himself up and began to stand his left leg buckled and he crashed to the ground groaning in pain. He went to try again and ended up on the ground again.

"Aramis?!" called Porthos worriedly,

Aramis was lying on his back and wiped the sweat off his brow with a shaky hand; he turned his head and looked up at Porthos. "I think my left leg is broken, I can't stand."

"Hang on I'll come down!" shouted Porthos, suddenly Aramis remembered how he ended up in the hollow.

"Stop!" hollered Aramis, Porthos froze and even from the distance between them Aramis could see Porthos' worry increasing. "You have to go and catch the thief!"

Porthos shook his head, "He'll be long gone."

"You don't know that!" countered Aramis; he watched as Porthos still considered a path down to him so he added, "Your duty is to catch him!"

Aramis watched as Porthos backed up and turned, he walked off in the direction Aramis remembered he was running in until he fell. He let his head thump back onto the ground and considered what to do. He couldn't stand up and therefore climb out of the hollow. He and Porthos were the only two searching this area so he knew he had a long wait. So he closed his eyes deciding falling asleep will help pass the time away. He squirmed about trying to find a comfortable positon but stopped in a gasp of pain as his movements intensified the pain in his leg. He heard snapping twigs and rustling leaves behind him, before he opened his eyes he heard a pair of footsteps stop beside him. A hand squeezed his shoulder and he opened his eyes to find Porthos leaning over him.

"You caught the thief?" asked Aramis confused; he didn't think he had fallen asleep. Porthos shook his head and Aramis realized Porthos had not gone after the thief. He sat up a little as he exclaimed, "Porthos! You should have left me here!-"

"Do _not_. Finish. That. Sentence" warned Porthos. "The choice between helping you and catching that thief is no contest. I will _never_ leave you alone, whether you're injured or not, just in this instance you are injured so I will most definitely not leave you. Despite you're complaints."

Aramis sighed knowing he had lost and yet again let his head thump back onto the ground. But before his head could touch the ground, Aramis felt himself stop mid-air; Porthos had caught him, preventing the chance of Aramis further injuring himself.

"Now let's get you out of here hmm?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"And how do you purpose we do that?" countered Aramis, "I can't even stand, let alone climb!"

"The embankment I came down is far less steep than the one you fell down. I'll lift you onto my shoulders and then I can easily get us out of here" smiled Porthos; he gently pulled Aramis so he was sat straighter. It took a few minutes but Porthos had managed to get Aramis draped over one of his shoulders, although by the time they managed this Aramis was groaning in pain.

Porthos walked carefully towards the embankment he came down and began walking up it, he only needed one hand to help himself up, and so he could use the other hand to steady Aramis. His friend didn't need to fall off his shoulder when he already had a broken leg.

Aramis had fisted Porthos' doublet as the pain and swinging movement made him feel nauseous, he clenched his eyes shut and begged himself not to be sick. He knew Porthos was walking slowly so to not aggravate the pain in his leg but Aramis found himself internally pleading Porthos to hurry. But he knew if he voiced his thoughts Porthos' worry would increase and he didn't want to do that to his friend.

* * *

What felt like hours later, but was probably half an hour at most, Porthos and Aramis arrived at the disused barn. Porthos shouted to nearby Musketeers where he had last seen the thief, those Musketeers began charging out of the barn believing the thief had injured Aramis. Porthos wasn't going to correct them, as in his mind's eye the thief had caused Aramis to fall by running into the forest. Porthos gently laid Aramis on the ground and Treville and Athos quickly came over.

"What happened to him?" demanded Treville, as he looked from Porthos down to a pale and sweaty Aramis. Who was obviously in pain.

"Why didn't you say you were in pain?!" exclaimed Porthos as he took in the lack of colour in Aramis' face.

"Had to get here soon to get other Musketeers to go after the thief" murmured Aramis.

"What. Happened?!" commanded Athos, as he knelt beside Aramis' head and looked at his friend's left leg and winced seeing the angle in which Aramis' leg pointed.

"He tripped" commented Porthos; he couldn't look at Aramis' leg not wanting to know how much pain his friend was in.

"Don't say it like that" groaned Aramis from the pain and embarrassment of Porthos' answer.

Porthos rolled his eyes smiling a little, "We were running a few feet away from the edge of an embankment and the earth gave way under Aramis."

Treville nodded, he then grabbed some wine and pushed Athos to Aramis' feet, "Let's get this leg sorted then." And he began pouring wine into Aramis' mouth, Porthos knelt at Aramis' other side and prepared himself to hold Aramis down while Athos reset his broken leg.

There was a crack and Aramis half gasped and half screamed in pain, but both noises were drowned out by the choking noises Aramis was making.

Porthos spun to face Athos and growled, "You could have at least let him swallow before resetting his leg!" He then turned back to Aramis and held his friend up as he coughed; Porthos thumped Aramis' back with his hand telling Aramis to breathe slowly. While Athos and Treville went about making a splint for Aramis' leg.

Treville had acquired a cart to take Aramis (and Porthos) back to the garrison, as Athos helped Porthos settle Aramis in the back of the cart he patted Aramis' shoulder.

"Sorry for almost choking you."

Aramis smiled, "It seems I have more to teach you in terms of caring for injuries."

Athos' lips twitched upwards as if he was going to smile, he didn't, but Aramis still counted it as one. As it was the nearest Athos ever came to a smile.

Soon the cart was slowly making its way along to the city gates, the jarring movements caused Aramis to grimace. The wine may have dulled most of the pain but every dip in the road caused the pain to flare.

Porthos sighed as he looked at Aramis, "You really are an idiot."

"What did I do now?! I haven't done anything other than fall into a hollow. Which is hardly my fault!" protested Aramis wide eyed.

Porthos rolled his eyes, "Yes that was not your fault. But I can't believe you told me to leave you behind while I went after the thief!"

"Because that was what we were ordered to do!" countered Aramis, "Really Porthos you act as if you would follow Treville's every order down to the letter, but you certainly didn't this time!"

Porthos rubbed a hand across his face and peaked over his hand to look at Aramis despairingly, "You have known me for a while Aramis, you should know by now that I will not leave you behind."

Aramis opened his mouth to argue, but then shut his mouth deciding against arguing with Porthos. While he usually did not back down so easily, the wine he had consumed along with the pain ensured he did not have the energy to argue.

Porthos saw Aramis' eyes begin to droop, so he moved across the small space so he was sat next to Aramis. He rested an arm across Aramis' shoulder and moved his friend's head onto his own shoulder. He smiled seeing Aramis drift off to sleep, knowing it would be better for his friend. He shook his head fondly at Aramis, his friend would charge into fights ready to defend his friends, to the death if necessary. But Aramis hated his friends defending him at the cost of their own lives; Porthos wondered when Aramis would realize that his friends, especially Porthos, would never abandon him to whatever situation Aramis found himself in.


	2. Shot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos, it means a lot!

" **Lovers have a right to betray you…friends don't" – Judy Holliday.**

* * *

The Musketeers were all in a frenzy, a man who blamed them for the death of his brother had decided to get revenge on them all by attacking Treville. He had lunged at Treville with a sword, luckily Treville side-stepped at the last possible second and came away from the fight with a small wound on his arm. Seeing that the injury could wait Aramis had charged after the man, Porthos hurrying after him. If a good a fighter as Treville could almost die at the hand of the man, then there was no reason Aramis couldn't.

Aramis had been running after the man through the streets of Paris, he had no idea where they were going. In his hurry to catch the man he wasn't taking stock of where he was, not exactly a good idea. He passed startled men, women and children, he knew they must be shouting words in alarm, but he couldn't hear them over the pounding of his feet on the ground and his pulse in his ears. The muscles in his legs began to ache and his breath began to take on an almost wheezy sound. But he ignored his tiredness and lack of breath. He _had_ to catch the man responsible for almost killing his Captain and friend. Since he had left home and become a solider he had dearly missed his family, but joining the Musketeers Treville had become a sort of father to him, so he was _not_ going to let the man escape and potentially try to kill Treville again. Aramis liked to think himself understanding and sympathetic, he certainly felt for the man for the loss of his brother. However, he would not extend mercy to those who threatened or tried to kill his brothers-in-arms, his _family_.

He turned a sharp corner and was satisfied to see he was gaining on the man. The street they were in was long and straight, the perfect place for Aramis to catch up to the man and capture him. The man in question looked behind him to see the Musketeer getting closer. Aramis watched as the man increased his speed, Aramis did not attempt this, knowing if he did, he would tire out and loose the man. He kept the same pace content to wait the man out. In the hot sun Aramis knew man couldn't last much longer. He wiped the sweat from his brow, but as he lowered his hand he watched as the man stopped suddenly, Aramis continued to run over to him, but the man pulled out a pistol and directed it at Aramis.

Aramis skidded to a stop and was dismayed to see he was in a deserted street that had no cover. He could only watch as he reached for his own pistol as the man smiled in triumph. He was just about to aim his pistol when a sharp crack of a fired pistol rang in the air. Aramis staggered back, dropping his pistol and clutched his chest as a fire of pain engulfed him.

His knees buckled and he collapsed onto the ground, he opened his mouth to call for help from his fellow Musketeers but no words came out. He _couldn't breathe_. He lifted his head a little and could do nothing as blood began to stain his leather doublet a few inches down from his heart and spread onto the ground beneath him. He suddenly had no energy left and his head dropped lifelessly to the ground.

He tried to gasp in as much air as he could, it did nothing but make his chest hurt _worse_. He blinked owlishly up at the sky, the sun continued to beat down on his face. Usually this would have been comforting, but not today. Today he felt cold, despite the warm rays of the sun, as if death itself was slowly and gently pulling him away from life. His breathing had become shallow and his eyes had almost slipped closed when he heard a voice.

" _Aramis!_ "

Even on the edge of death, Aramis knew that voice. Porthos.

He pulled open his eyes just in time to see Porthos skid down onto his knees beside him. Aramis' heart broke a little seeing the look of desperation on Porthos' face, he noticed something streaking past him in the direction the man had gone, but his attention remained on Porthos.

"P'thos" he mumbled, his tongue felt thick and heavy preventing him from getting his words out clearly.

Porthos seemed to shake himself out of whatever thoughts had consumed him, "It's alright Aramis I'm here." Porthos soothed as he pressed down on Aramis' wound. Aramis would have arched his back from the pain if he'd had the energy. Instead he gasped and tried to push Porthos' hands off him.

"Th' m'n…you…nee'…t' catch hi'…" gasped Aramis,

Porthos shook his head, "No-"

" _Go_ " hissed Aramis, his eyes flickered closed and he knew no more.

* * *

" _Go_ " hissed Aramis, Porthos could only look on in terror as Aramis' eyes closed and his ragged breathing slowed even more.

"Aramis!" cried Porthos, he pressed down on the wound with one and hand with the other he shook Aramis' shoulder firmly. He swallowed back tears when his friend's head just shook from side to side limply. He looked down at his hands and the wound they were covering. There was so much blood. He knew if help didn't come soon, then there would be no hope for Aramis.

"Don't you die on me Aramis" choked Porthos, "Don't you _dare_ die. Do you hear me? You're not going to die! I won't let you! So fight you stubborn idiot! _Fight_!"

He turned his head a little hearing fast approaching footsteps. He recognised the man, he was Monsieur Baton, a physician Aramis thought was the best in all of Paris. He didn't care what Baton was doing there, he was just _thankful_ he was there.

Baton took one look at them and from a bag he hastily produced a rag and he held it down on Aramis' wound. He looked up at Porthos and calmly said, "You carry him and I'll put pressure on the wound. My house is on the street that connects with this one."

Porthos nodded and was glad Baton was there, at least he knew what to do. So he drew his hands away from Aramis' wound and hooked one arm under Aramis' knees and the other around his friend's shoulders. As he stood he saw Athos emerge from the other end of the street, in his panic and worry for Aramis he had forgotten Athos had gone after the man. Athos replaced his pistol onto his belt with a grim look on his face. Porthos nodded, at least the man responsible for attacking Treville and Aramis had been dealt with. Aramis just needed to survive and then all would be right again. Athos approached and picked up Aramis' dropped pistol and Porthos was dimly aware of him saying he was going back to the garrison to update Treville.

Porthos began walking with Aramis carefully secured in his arms, he blinked back tears at the way Aramis' head just hung limply. Aramis' hat almost fell off his head, but Porthos managed to catch it with the hand around Aramis' shoulder. He wouldn't _dare_ leave the hat on the ground to be ruined or stolen. Aramis would never forgive him for that.

 _If he lives_.

He quickly shook the thought away, Aramis was going to live. He wasn't going to let death take his brother without a fight.

* * *

It had been a day since Aramis had been shot. Baton said Aramis was very lucky, the bullet had hit a rib; not breaking it (so not piercing Aramis' lung, nothing could have been done if it did) and the rib was only cracked. Ultimately, Baton had told Porthos that the distance between Aramis and the shooter is what had saved Aramis' life. If they had been stood any closer than the bullet _would_ have broken Aramis' rib, as it was Aramis had almost died from the blood loss.

They were still in Baton's house, Aramis was pale and unmoving as he laid unconscious in the spare room's bed. Porthos sat in a chair at Aramis' bedside leaning forward with his hands clasped in front of him, staring at Aramis in case there was any change. With nothing to do but wait until Aramis awoke, he kept replaying what happened over and over again in his head. He was always thankful for Aramis' ability to run fast as it helped catch criminals quicker, but now he cursed it. The man had had a head start on them, but Aramis was so quick that he was soon out of Porthos' sight. He and Athos had come to a stop in a street unsure where Aramis and the man were, until they heard a shot fired. They ran in that direction and had saw the retreating figure of the man disappearing down the street and Aramis lying on his back gasping just trying to breathe. Without communicating Athos had taken off after the man and Porthos had found his knees buckling beneath him beside Aramis when he saw the pool of blood surrounding Aramis.

The backs of his eyes stung as he remembered the barely concealed terror in Aramis' eyes as he barely breathed. He knew it had cost Aramis a lot of energy to keep his eyes open, especially when Aramis had his eyes closed when Porthos first found him. Also the fact that he managed to talk to Porthos coherently, even with the slurring, only showed the strength Aramis possessed. It was with that knowledge that Porthos told himself that sooner or later Aramis _would_ wake up and make a full recovery.

The sound of shifting fabric and a quiet groan returned Porthos' focus to Aramis, who was blinking his eyes open looking around him in confusion. Aramis' eyes then locked onto him and he croaked, "Porthos?"

He smiled in relief and nodded, "It's me"

Aramis returned the smile, but then he frowned. "Why does my chest hurt?"

"Because you were shot" stated Porthos, as he attempted to keep his voice even.

Aramis' eyes widened as everything came rushing back. "Was the man caught?"

"Athos dealt with him" commented Porthos sternly,

"You shouldn't have left Athos to deal with him alone!" exclaimed Aramis horrified, he lifted his head a little to meet Porthos' gaze easier. "If he turned on Athos like he did to me, Athos would have been alone and he might have been killed!"

"Like you then!" countered Porthos angrily,

"What?"

"You running off without Athos and I left _you_ alone!"

"I knew you were behind me" stated Aramis matter of factly.

Porthos gripped his hair tightly, "But we _weren't_! You were going so fast we _lost you_ and we only found you _after_ we heard the pistol fire."

Aramis shook his head, "You should have left me and gone after Athos!"

"Why should I?!" snapped Porthos, he stood suddenly to his feet; his chair shooting back across the floor and he turned to look out of the window.

"It was your job to make sure he was caught so he couldn't go after Treville again!" retorted Aramis as he stared frustratingly at Porthos' back.

Porthos spun around to glare at Aramis, "If I had done that _you would be dead_!" He pointed at Aramis as his voice took on a desperate edge. "You were _this_ close to death when I found you! If I had gone with Athos you wouldn't be lying in front of me, yesterday we would have buried you six feet under the ground! I will _never_ betray you like that, I will _never_ leave you behind."

The wide eyed look returned on Aramis' face, "Porthos-"

"No" interrupted Porthos shaking his head, "You are my brother in all but blood, I know for a _fact_ that had it been me lying on the ground bleeding you would have stayed with me. Like I did with you. So how can you tell me to leave you behind?"

Aramis replaced his head on the pillow and looked up at the ceiling, "I don't know" he mumbled.

Porthos sighed and dropped back down onto the chair and pulled it closer to the bed, "Because you are an idiot."

Aramis snorted, "I've heard that before." He turned his head and looked up at Porthos and smiled.

Porthos returned the smile, he then reached out a hand and grasped Aramis' elbow and squeezed gently. Aramis' smile grew and he repeated the gesture, Porthos looked at their arms and then back up at Aramis. "I'm glad you're alright brother."

"You can't get rid of me that easily" grinned Aramis,

Porthos chuckled, "And I'm so very glad of that. You stubborn idiot."

"Have you called me that recently? Because I have a funny feeling you did" Aramis frowned in confusion.

" _Don't you_ _dare_ _die. Do you hear me? You're not going to die! I won't let you! So fight you stubborn idiot!_ _Fight_ _!"_

Porthos shook the memory of blood and desperation away and shrugged grinning, "Maybe or maybe not."

"Fine be that way" murmured Aramis, he was beginning to grow tried and his eyes were drooping.

Porthos patted Aramis' arm and he tucked it back under the blanket, "Rest Aramis. You've got quite a road of recovery in front of you. You'll need all the rest you can get." But Aramis was already asleep.


	3. Captive

" **Things are never quite as scary when you've got a best friend." – Bill Watterson.**

* * *

The Three Inseparables had been assigned to investigate a man, one Gaston Arcand, who was suspected of plotting against the King, Athos was off speaking to the man's friends to see if they thought their friend was capable of murdering the King. While Aramis and Porthos were poking around Gaston's home trying to find evidence of the supposed plot. Time was of the essence, while the man they were investigating may not be plotting against the King, _someone was_.

No one was in the house apart from Aramis, Porthos and the cook. So Porthos went to speak to the cook, when Aramis went to the library to search for plans of the plot. Porthos had scoffed at that commenting, "Who would hide plans of assassinating the King in their _library_?!" Aramis had shrugged, he knew it was a strange thought, but if you wanted to hide criminating evidence papers. They wouldn't look too out of place among a pile of other papers in the library, would they?

Aramis sighed, he had been searching the library for just over half an hour and was beginning to get fed up. He liked books and thoroughly enjoyed reading, but the library he was standing in was full of the most boring books he had ever seen. He leaned up against a bookshelf and startled when his elbow knocked a book to the floor with a thump. He bent down to pick it up and smoothed out the pages. His father had always taught him to be careful with books and ensure they were not ruined by accidents. As he picked up the book his sighed in dismay when a few pages fell out of the book. He bent down to retrieve them to put them back into the place they belonged in the book, when he realized they weren't pages at all. They were the plans.

He grinned triumphantly as he placed the book back on the shelf in its place. The grin slipped off his face when he heard the front door open and close with a slam. Gaston was back, and judging from the footsteps he could hear; Gaston was heading towards the library. Aramis stuffed the pages back into the book they had come from, in the hopes Gaston would not realize they had been found and therefore, change the plan. He turned around to face the entrance into the library just as Gaston entered. Gaston stopped and glared at Aramis.

"What are you doing here Musketeer?" Gaston demanded.

Aramis removed his hat and held it against his chest and dipped his head respectfully to the Middle-class trader. "My apologises Monsieur Arcand. But a person had spread a most horrible rumour about you."

"What rumour?"

"I am glad to hear you have not heard it Monsieur. For it is most disgraceful."

Gaston narrowed his eyes, " _What rumour_?"

Aramis shook his head as if he was horrified to repeat the rumour. "That you are plotting against our own King."

Gaston gulped and fear passed across his face momentarily before it was replaced with a blank look. "That is disgraceful. I am a loyal subject of His Majesty the King."

"I full heartedly agree" nodded Aramis, pleased to see that a small amount of fear remained in Gaston's eyes.

"As you agree that I am a loyal subject, why are you here?"

Aramis shot Gaston a small smile, "You see Monsieur, because people had spread that disgraceful rumour; I had to be seen checking to make sure you were not plotting against the King." He replaced his hat on his head and began to step around Gaston. "I have seen all I need to, I am sorry for the inconvenience Monsieur. I shall pass word around that you are no traitor."

His back was turned for a second, but that was all Gaston needed apparently. For Aramis found himself shoved into a bookshelf, causing it and himself to topple to the floor. He laid on the floor looking up at the ceiling dazed, Gaston leaned above him threateningly. Aramis quickly regained enough sense and kicked out one of his legs making the slim plotter stagger away. Aramis tried to get to his feet, but he was still dazed and Gaston recovered quicker than him. Within a few seconds Aramis had been pushed to the floor face first with enough force to leave him disorientated.

Aramis was vaguely aware of being turned onto his back and his arms being lifted a little. He felt himself being dragged along the floor, he was confused when he felt something wet trickling down his face; it took him a moment to realize his nose was bleeding. He stifled a groan as he was pulled around a corner hitting the wall as he went, his eyes may have only been open at half slits, but that didn't mean he didn't recognise Porthos hiding in a corner at the other end of the hallway. He noticed Porthos take a step forward, he shook his head sharply once. He didn't want to alert Gaston to Porthos' presence and now he began to feel nauseous. Porthos froze and looked at him worriedly, Aramis jerked his head towards the library and just hoped Porthos got the hint. He was pulled around another corner, with Porthos now defiantly out of sight of Gaston, Aramis hoped he had snuck into the library to grab the plans and escape the house to get Athos and give the plans to Treville.

Gaston stopped dragging him, his arms were dropped and he could do nothing as he fell back to the floor. Gaston hovered above him, "Did you come alone?"

"Yes" mumbled Aramis, but with enough force in his voice to allow Porthos to hear him; telling him to remain quiet and get out of the house.

"Then you will die alone Musketeer scum" snarled Gaston as he kicked Aramis in the side. Aramis groaned and tried to roll away, but Gaston kept him in place by forcefully resting a foot on Aramis' shoulder. Aramis forced his eyes open fully as he heard the scrapping of metal; Gaston had pulled his Musketeer blade from its scabbard. He tried to wriggle away, not only was he to be killed by a traitor, but said traitor was going to use his own sword against him. "Wriggle all you want Musketeer, but it does not change that I am about to kill you."

Aramis braised himself for the strike, but it did not come. For a pair of footsteps pounded down the hallway and a thunderous voice bellowed, "Stop right there Gaston Arcand!" Aramis groaned, and sure enough when he looked up there stood Porthos, looking beyond angry.

"You said you were alone!" shouted Gaston, Aramis' sword still in his hand, ready to kill its owner.

"Of course I did" scoffed Aramis.

Gaston growled in anger, he wrenched open a door on his left. He grabbed Aramis' arms again and began pulling him to the door, Aramis turned and saw he was being pulled to the cellar. He looked back around to see Porthos advancing on Gaston.

"Don't Porthos! Get the plans! Get Treville! Get ou-" Aramis was cut off when he was pushed down the small flight of stairs into the cellar. The last thing he heard was Porthos' angry roar before he blacked out.

* * *

Aramis opened his eyes, to find himself engulfed in darkness, he could not even see his own hand in front of him. Hearing an ongoing scuffle on the other side of the door, he came to the conclusion that he must have only blacked out for a few moments. He sat still and tried to take count of his injuries, which was made difficult by the pitch dark.

He patted his legs and arms, stretching them. _So I have no broken bones, my ribs feel a little sore. Must be bruised at the most. It feels like my nose is still bleeding, also I must have a cut on my head as I do not hear water so the cut must be bleeding. My head is hurting so I must have a concussion._ He heard the door bang as if someone had been slammed into it, he began reaching out looking for anything he could use as a weapon for it was impossible to load his pistol with no light. His hand brushed against a rock and he grasped it tightly. He smiled when he sat up noticing his head was not spinning, he figured the darkness meant his eyes had nothing to focus on so he was not making himself dizzy. That was until he leaned up against the wall and began pulling himself to his feet.

The sounds of the fight were drowned out by his own harsh breathing, his head was bowed forward a little. Slowly but surely he managed to get himself stood upright, his grip on the rock was a little slippery; either his hand was sweaty or he'd cut his hand. _Perfect that's all I need_ , he sighed.

Suddenly all the sounds of the fight stopped. He stood against the wall straighter, his grip tightening a little around the rock. He jumped a little when the door was yanked open, he blinked against the sudden bright light and squinted up at the figure stood in the doorway. He'd know that figure anywhere. It was Porthos. Aramis sighed in relief; his grip on the rock slackened leaving it to fall to the ground with a clatter that echoed a little in the empty room. His knees gave out and his back slid down the wall; pulling his hat off his head and leaving him sat slumping against the wall with his legs splayed out in front of him.

"Aramis!" cried Porthos, he hastily ran down the stairs, Aramis' sword clenched in his hand, as he crouched in front of his friend.

"I'm alright Porthos" murmured Aramis,

Porthos' face contorted in a mixture of panic and anger. "No you're not! You're _bleeding_!"

Aramis sighed in fond exasperation at his friend, "It's not that much; just a small nosebleed and a small cut on both my head and hand."

"You're hand?!"

"Oh. So you hadn't seen that then."

Porthos sighed and rubbed a hand across his face, "Let's get you out of here."

Aramis' hat was gently placed on his head as he was pulled to his feet and knew for sure that had Porthos not been beside him, he would have fallen to the floor. The dizziness had faded by the time they reached the cellar door, and Aramis looked down to see Gaston unconscious and his hands tied to the legs of a table. He looked at Porthos with an eyebrow raised questionably.

The other Musketeer shrugged, "I needed to make sure you were alright."

They had almost reached the front door when Aramis suddenly veered off towards the library, pulling Porthos along with him.

"What?!" exclaimed Porthos,

"We need to get the plans" answered Aramis, he flinched seeing the toppled bookcase he had been shoved into and all the books scattered across the floor with bent pages. He found the book the plans were in a pulled them out and held them out to Porthos.

Porthos chuckled, "I guess you were right."

"Of course I was" replied Aramis smiling, he frowned when he remembered hinting to Porthos about the plans as he was dragged across the floor. "I had hinted to you where they were once Gaston caught me."

Porthos frowned and dumped Aramis in a nearby chair as he crossed his arms. "I didn't know that. I thought you jerked your head because he was aggravating your head."

"He was" murmured Aramis as he rubbed the back of his neck, he then raised his voice a little as he continued. "Regardless whether you knew what I was doing by jerking my head. You should have gone to find Athos once Gaston was out of your sight."

"Don't start that!" growled Porthos as he leaned in close to Aramis. "Had I done that you would have been killed before I got back!"

Aramis shook his head furiously, blinking past the consequential nauseous. "It is your job to protect the King! That is your first duty! Therefore, you should have gone to either Athos or Treville _before_ helping me!"

Porthos narrowed his eyes angrily, "I had almost left, but when I heard him said he was going to kill you I had to act. I _couldn't leave you alone_." Aramis opened his mouth to protest, but Porthos continued. "I know you're going to say how I should have left you, but you are my family and family does not leave each other behind!" Porthos would have said more but seeing Aramis' slumped form in the chair, all the fight drained out of him. "Come on, let's get those plans to Treville and get you looked after."

As Aramis was pulled gently to his feet he asked, "You're not going to come back and collect Arcand are you?"

"No" commented Porthos shaking his head, "Why?"

Aramis looked at Porthos with a stern look, "Because you have a habit of beating up men who you consider to have done wrong against your family."

Porthos chuckled as he slung one of Aramis' arms over his own shoulders, "No I won't. I'll send Athos, but I might just let slip to him what Arcand has done to you and what he had planned. You know Athos can be worse than me when it comes to those who attack Musketeers."

Aramis groaned as he let Porthos lead him out of the house and out into the street. Usually he would have hated to walk around with dried blood coating half of his face, but today he didn't care. He and Porthos had made it out of Gaston Arcand's house alive and had foiled Arcand's plans to kill the King. Overall, it wasn't a bad day. All he had to do was get Porthos to understand, that when it came to his duty as a Musketeer. He sometimes had to leave his friends to get the job done. Aramis knew, however, that this lesson may take a long time.


	4. Fire

" **Friends show their love in times of trouble, not happiness." – Euripides.**

* * *

Aramis, Porthos and Athos were in a tavern on their way back to Paris after escorting an important dignitary back to his home after seeing the King. Aramis smiled seeing a woman and her three young children, a girl and two boys, sat at the very back of the room out of the way. The girl sat beside her mother munching on some bread when her brothers chased each other around the table. Aramis could see the mother getting tired trying to get her sons to sit down, she managed to grab one son and plonked him on a chair, but the second (and younger) was too excited and grinning at his mother ran away from her outstretched arms. Aramis leaned back and managed to grab the little boy. The boy groaned and tried to wriggle out of the Musketeers grip.

"Easy lad" chuckled Aramis as he stood, the boy's legs kicking air, "Your mother wants you to sit quietly and eat. You should do as she says lad, mother's always know best."

He then gently placed the boy on his mother's lap, "Thank you!" sighed the woman.

"No thanks needed Madam" smiled Aramis as he tipped his hat politely. He smiled at the children and then turned back to his friends.

He dropped back down onto his chair as Porthos grinned across the table at him. "Surprised you didn't flirt with her."

Aramis shook his head, "I merely felt sorry for her."

"The perfect gentleman." Sniggered Porthos shaking his head,

"I was raised as one" retorted Aramis as he reached for his cup of wine.

Half an hour later of laughing and joking Aramis frowned when he could smell something strange, something he realised smelled like smoke. He looked across at his friends in concern, looking at their faces he could see they had come to the same conclusion as him. He opened his mouth to say something when someone burst into the room from a smaller room at the side screeching "FIRE!"

Panic filled the room and people began running for the door causing a pile up. People began screaming when flames started to flicker out from the small room and down from the ceiling. Athos and Porthos pushed their way to the door and pushed the fleeing people into a line which helped them escape the building faster.

Aramis went to join them but the woman and her three children caught his attention. The oldest boy was dragged from his mother by the fleeing crowd, and others who were pushing past kept the mother separated from her son. So he surged forward and forcefully moved through the crowd and grabbed the boy before he could be trampled and passed him to Porthos. He went back to the mother and pushed the little girl into her arms, Porthos had rushed over, so Aramis gently but firmly pushed her to Porthos. Aramis then turned to the younger boy and hoisted him into his arms. The boy whimpered seeing the fire getting closer, smoke was turning everything grey and it was getting harder to breathe. He tucked the boy's head against his shoulder hoping to block out most of the nasty smoke. Hearing a loud creaking and groaning sound above him he looked up and gasped in shock, although that led to a coughing fit. One beam in the roof was moving.

Everything happened in slow motion, he saw that the beam was beginning to fall. Porthos was swiftly approaching again. Knowing his friend's strength, he tossed the small boy to Porthos, he sighed in relief when he saw the boy land safely in Porthos' arms. His relief didn't last long. The groan of the beam deafened him as it fell. He threw his arms up to cover his face and crouched over as the beam hit the floor with a crash. Cutting him off from Porthos and the door.

Distantly he heard Porthos shouting his name, but it was drowned out by his own coughing. He blinked through the smoke and the flickering orange flames to see Porthos storming to the door, the boy clutched in his arms. Aramis pulled himself to his feet and tried to open the window nearest to him desperately. It didn't open. He slid down the wall and huddled against it coughing into his knees.

"Aramis!"

Instead of shouting where he was, he remembered the little boy he threw to Porthos and so asked. "The boy?"

"Outside with Athos and his family." Called Porthos, Aramis flinched hearing Porthos' harsh coughing.

He looked though the smoke spotting his friend and shouted, "Porthos get out!"

"I'm not leaving you!" came the stubborn reply.

" _Please_ Porthos get out!" begged Aramis, the thought of dying in a fire terrified him, but the thought of Porthos dying in the fire with him, while he had a chance to escape terrified him more. Over the crackling of the flames he heard heavy footsteps and looked up to see Porthos pacing on the other side of the fire consumed beam. " _Porthos_."

Porthos stopped and shook his head, "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

Porthos stared worriedly at the huddled form of his best friend. Soot was already beginning to cover Aramis' face and his body shook during his hacking coughs. His heart clenched hearing Aramis pleading with him to leave. A small part of him wanted to escape the hot flames, but a bigger part of him refused to abandon his friend. When he had returned into the burning tavern after taking the young boy outside, ignoring Athos' shouts for him to stay outside, he had watched as Aramis had pulled and rattled the window trying to get out. When the window remained shut he could only watch as Aramis slumped to the floor defeated and accepting of his fate.

"Just get out Porthos!" ordered Aramis, coughing between every other word, "There is no sense in us both dying here!"

"What part of 'I'm not leaving' don't you understand?!" growled Porthos, he wasn't angry at Aramis, but at the situation that meant Aramis was pleading him to leave his best friend to die.

Aramis looked at him with wide eyes that begged him to leave. Porthos refused to leave, he had always prided himself on his strength in helping his friends out of sticky situations. Now his strength was no use, while he may be able to lift a heavy beam. He couldn't lift it while it was aflame. Aramis was stuck where he was and there was nothing Porthos could do to help him.

The smoke hit the back of his throat causing him to start coughing, he pulled an arm over his mouth and nose in an attempt to block out the smoke. His eyes were stinging from the smoke and the heat was beginning to become unbearable. However, he still stood where he was desperately searching for anything that would save Aramis.

"Porthos" croaked Aramis,

"Yeah?" he prompted as he got as near to the beam as he dared.

"I need you to do something for me" said Aramis, his head heavily leaning against the wall. Porthos nodded, he felt concern consume him seeing Aramis look on the verge of passing out. "I need you to _get out_."

"No!" countered Porthos sharply,

"What is the point of you staying here to die Porthos?" asked Aramis hoarsely, "There is nothing you can do to help me. The window won't open. There is no other way out for me."

Porthos frowned and remained where he stood in answer to Aramis' request. Then he thought about the window. Aramis may not have been able to open it from the inside, but if he went outside and pushed against it, he might be able to get his brother out that way. He turned and walked towards the door and heard Aramis sigh in relief. He turned back to Aramis and was horrified to see Aramis' eyes closed and him slumping sideways to the floor.

"Aramis!" called Porthos stepping closer to the beam again. Aramis' eyes flew open and his eyes locked onto Porthos', but he remained lying on his side.

Porthos looked imploringly at Aramis, "I'm going to try and open the window from the outside. I'll get you out!" Aramis nodded but still continued to lie on his side coughing. "Don't fall asleep! Or I'll kill you myself!" He then turned and ran to the door, ignoring the flames that seemed to almost jump out towards him. Not hearing a jokey retort from Aramis only made him run faster.

He ran past Athos who was yelling at him for going back into the tavern and staying there and asking where Aramis was. He ignored Athos and ran around to the other side of the building. He reached the window and saw Aramis lying still, as he couldn't see his friend's face he didn't know if Aramis had managed to keep his eyes open. So he urgently began to push against the window frame. Desperate to get his brother out of the burning building.

* * *

Aramis watched Porthos run out of the building, he tried to sit himself up but found he didn't have the strength. His eyes kept flickering shut, but every time they did he managed to force them open again. Sweat was trickling down his face from the heat and his eyes stung with tears as the smoke aggravated them. The fire roared around him and he was not ashamed to admit it was terrifying. The tips of the flames rose up as if they were trying to touch the sky, encasing him in a fiery coffin.

His vision blurred and the orange glow of the fire was beginning to annoy him, it served as a reminder of his prison and of his fate. He was glad Porthos had gone outside to try and open the window, it meant Porthos was safe. Aramis did not let himself believe he was getting out, he just couldn't. All that mattered was that Porthos was out of the tavern, he would live.

His eyes slipped closed against his will and he found it hard to reopen them. There was a crashing sound and he snapped his eyes open to see the window lying on the floor. It had skidded across the floor and as just one corner of it touched the beam the whole wooden frame became alight. He just stared at it as his body shook with a coughing fit. He couldn't draw enough breath and when he actually managed to breathe it was wheezy gasps. He could hear nothing but the roaring of the fire, which was why he startled when Porthos suddenly appeared in front of him.

"P'thos" he wheezed,

"I'm getting you out" stated Porthos, without warning Aramis found himself picked up in Porthos' arms.

He wasn't aware of Porthos putting him through the window, until the sudden rush of cool air hit his face. He dropped to his hands and knees his hat falling onto the ground beside him as he coughed and gasped, finally drawing clean air into his lungs. A hand thumped down onto his back causing him to splutter and he turned so he sat on the floor and glared up at Porthos.

Porthos shrugged and grinned, "Only trying to help."

"Well don't" groused Aramis, as he continued to glare up at Porthos. "You already nearly killed yourself standing in a _burning building_!"

Porthos' smiled dropped off his face as a frown replaced it. He crouched down so he was level with Aramis' face and forcefully shook Aramis' shoulders. "When will you understand that I _will not_ leave you to die?!"

"You could hardly blame me this time!" countered Aramis angrily. "I was _trapped_ and you had a _way out_!"

"Way out or no, there is no way I'd leave you!" growled Porthos.

"You are far too stubborn for your own good" sighed Aramis,

"So are you" frowned Porthos.

They both turned hearing Athos shouting their names, Porthos turned to look behind him, while Aramis just peaked his head around Porthos. Athos stopped and sighed in relief and leaned against the stable (which fortunately had not caught on fire). Aramis and Porthos grinned at each other and then at Athos.

"You two will be the death of me" groaned Athos shaking his head looking at his two soot covered friends.

"Nah" chuckled Porthos, "If you've survived this long with us…"

"We won't be the death of you" finished Aramis.

Athos shook his head and approached them, "I'm glad you're alright Aramis."

"I am too" added Porthos, "Even if you did ask me to leave."

Aramis shook his head at Porthos chuckling in relief. There was nothing like the feeling of cheating death and coming out unscathed. Next thing he knew, the mother from earlier came running over to him and hugged him tightly knocking the breath out of him. It took him a second to catch up to what was happening and then he brought his arms up to hug the woman back.

"Thank you!" she exclaimed, as she leaned back to look at Aramis. "You saved my children's lives and so my own!"

"It was nothing" smiled Aramis.

"It wasn't!" protested the woman, "It means everything to me that you risked your life for my children."

"We're Musketeers Madam. It's what we do." Replied Aramis, he could see Athos and Porthos nodding agreement.

The woman got to her feet and with Porthos' help Aramis got to his own feet and placed his hat back on his head. He then saw the three children stood close by and the youngest boy grinned up at him. "When I grow up I'm going to be Musketeer so I can be a hero!"

Aramis laughed and patted boy gently on the head. The mother thanked the Musketeers again before she herded her children away from the burning building and Athos went to help putting the fire out. Aramis then stared at the remaining flames and shivered knowing that had he been left in the building any longer he would have perished in there. It was strange; he had accepted he wasn't getting out and now it was beginning to sink in that he had escaped and was alright.

Porthos tapped him on the shoulder to gain his attention, "If you _ever_ tell me to leave you behind ever again. I will punch you so hard being trapped in a burning building will seem like a picnic."

"Got it" nodded Aramis, but he knew, as did Porthos, that if anything similar happened again. Aramis would tell Porthos to leave, as would Porthos if their roles were reversed. It was just how they were. It would annoy the other to no end, but they would always be there to help their brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know what you thought about this chapter and I will update the next chapter as soon as I can. 
> 
> Sorry for the delay in updating, but I have recently (and finally!) got a job for when I'm home from university so I've been pretty tired and not getting motivated to write (sorry about that!). I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter but I didn't think I could improve it much and felt I needed to update this story. 
> 
> The next chapter will be called 'Ice', so I'll let your imaginations run wild with that. Thanks for reading!


	5. Ice

" **A true friend never gets in your way unless you happen to be going down." – Arnold H. Glasow**

* * *

Aramis and Porthos were on their way back to Paris after completing an assignment for Treville in Caen. It was the middle of winter and snow had thickly covered the ground, the horses' hooves crunched in the snow. So they had decided to complete their journey for the rest of the day at a walk, it would take longer, but it would eliminate the risk of their horses slipping at a canter and ending with serious injuries for them and their horses.

They were travelling near to Louviers and along the back of the River Seine, which was sixty-two miles away from Paris and nineteen miles just south of Rouen. They each had their thick winter cloaks pulled against them tightly with one hand and watched their own breath in the air and fade away like mist.

It was midday but already it was freezing, the river itself was frozen. Porthos knew that soon they would have to stop at the next inn and try travelling again tomorrow. There was no sense in continuing their slow journey in the freezing cold. He turned and looked at Aramis who he could see was grinding his teeth together in an attempt to stop them from chattering.

"We'll stop at the next inn" he said. Aramis nodded and hard as he tried to hide it, Porthos could still see his relieved expression. Seeing Aramis' drooping eyes and not wanting his friend to fall asleep and fall off his horse, he said the first thing that came to mind, "It's pretty cold isn't it?"

Aramis raised an eyebrow in disbelief, " _Really?!_ 'It's pretty cold?'"

"You don't have to say it like that" groused Porthos good humouredly.

"You pointed out the obvious!" retorted Aramis with a small smile.

Porthos chuckled, "Just trying to have a conversation."

"Do you have anything intelligent to say?" asked Aramis,

"So you're insulting my intelligence?" Porthos mocked frowned.

"If the shoe fits." Aramis shrugged, well Porthos thought he did Aramis could have just been shivering.

The next ten minutes passed with laughter and Porthos was glad to see Aramis relaxing. With his mind being taken off the cold Aramis wasn't shivering, which in turn made Porthos relax. He hated seeing his best friend uncomfortable. He had positioned his horse so he had his back to the river and therefore the cold breeze, Aramis tended to feel the cold more than he did. So during the winter months when on assignment Porthos always tried to be a barrier between Aramis and the cold wind. So it was rewarding for him to see Aramis smiling and laughing. However, he watched with confusion as the smile dropped off Aramis' face and he stopped his horse.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Aramis' face, while already pale from the cold, lost all of its remaining colour. Aramis just pointed to something towards the river, so Porthos turned in the saddle and gasped seeing a man lying completely still in the middle of the frozen river. He turned back to Aramis hearing a soft thump and a crunching sound. "What are you doing?" he asked, for Aramis had dismounted his horse and was in the process of tying the reins to a close by branch.

"I'm going to see if the man is alright" responded Aramis, he took off his cloak and weapons putting them in his saddlebags, just in case and slowly made his way over to the river bank.

"Don't be a fool!" exclaimed Porthos, he also dismounted and secured the reins to a branch. "It's dangerous! The ice could crack and break!"

Without looking back at Porthos, Aramis tested the weight of his foot on the ice. "I'll be fine. There aren't any cracks and I'll be careful."

Porthos could only watch on in a mixture of disbelief and nervousness as Aramis slowly and carefully stepped out onto the ice.

* * *

Aramis slowly walked across the ice spreading his weight as much as he could. Every now and then one of his feet would slip, almost landing him face down on the ice; but each time he managed to stay upright. He pretended not to hear Porthos' sharp intakes of breath each time he almost slipped. He knew Porthos was only worried about him, but the medic in him had him walking across the ice to the fallen man.

Soon enough he had reached the man, looking at him Aramis guessed he was a traveller. His few bags presented the idea that he was not from around this part of France, that and his apparent lack of knowledge of a bridge half a mile further down the river.

Aramis carefully lowered himself to the ice and crouched beside the man and shook his head sadly. There was no need to check for a pulse. The man's skin had a bluish tinge to it and no misty breath could been seen from coming out of his nose. Aramis turned the man slightly and found a small, frozen pool of blood beneath his head. He shivered feeling how cold the man was to the touch.

He looked over at Porthos on the bank and called out, "He must have slipped and hit his head on the ice."

"Is he alive?" asked Porthos, who had been pacing along the river's edge.

Aramis shook his head, "He must have fallen unconscious and then froze to death." He then debated on what to do, he did not want to leave the man in the middle of the ice. There was no dignity in that. So he decided that he would pull the man back to where Porthos was standing, but that would mean the ice would have more weight placed on it, in the same place. Making the ice more likely to crack.

As he lifted the man's arms he heard a loud cracking sound and felt the ice beneath his feet move a little. He looked up and met Porthos' worried gaze.

"Aramis get off the ice!" shouted Porthos, who looked like he wanted to run out onto the ice and drag Aramis back to safety.

Aramis slowly rose to his feet and didn't look at the man he was leaving behind. He winced hearing another crack as he took a step forward.

"You're putting too much weight on the ice all at once!" warned Porthos.

So Aramis slowly bent towards the ice again, and then on his stomach he crawled across the ice. Ignoring the biting cold that seeped through his doublet, the sun's light bounced off the snow and ice making him unable to see the river bank. So he angled his head down using the brim of his hat to block out the sun's glare. Slowly but surely he was making progress across the ice.

Until there was another loud crack. This time parts of the ice began to break.

"ARAMIS _RUN_!" bellowed Porthos. Aramis pulled himself to his feet and began to run, he jumped over cracks and dodged left and right.

Then suddenly there was nothing beneath his feet but the cold icy water of the river. He plunged into the river and instantly felt the cold seep into his bones and flesh. He gasped in shock, the water rushed into his mouth freezing his insides.

Somehow he managed to pull himself to the surface and he broke the surface of the river gasping and coughing. Desperately he clawed at ice and clung on to it tightly, managing to keep his head and shoulders above the water. The pounding in his ears faded away and that was when he heard his brother.

" _ARAMIS!_ "

He blinked his eyes getting rid of the water and blearily looked up at Porthos. With dismay he saw he was only a few feet away from the river bank. He had almost made it to safety.

" _ARAMIS_!" shrieked Porthos,

"P-P-P-P-Porth-thos" he stammered.

"Don't worry I'll get you out!" called Porthos, his eyes wide in terror.

"Don't Porthos!" shouted Aramis, the cold not affecting his voice in his worry for his friend. "Don't you dare!"

Porthos ignored him and just as he placed one foot on the ice there was a loud cracking sound again. Porthos pulled his foot back so quickly it was as if he burned it.

Parts of the ice cracked or broke, the part Aramis was clinging to included. The ice broke away cutting his hands and plunging his head and shoulders back under the water's surface. He pulled at the water with his hands, trying to ignore the stinging in them. He felt them pull through thin air and then they latched onto some more ice. He had lost a lot of strength, so he was only able to keep his head above the water. With a sense of detachment he watched as the cuts on his hands stained the ice red.

He tried to pull himself out of the river but he felt his energy drain away. He found it hard to keep his eyes open and a tight grip on the ice, which was made hard by the injuries on his hands.

* * *

Porthos had panicked when Aramis disappeared under the water for a second time, much to his relief however, Aramis' hands came out of the water desperately clawing at the air until they found purchase on the ice. Somehow through the whole incident his hat remained on his head, albeit it was soaked and drooping from the weight of the water. If it wasn't for the seriousness of the situation he would have laughed.

He went to try getting to Aramis again, but he was stopped by his friend's quiet voice.

"Don't Porthos. _Please_ " begged Aramis.

He looked closer at Aramis and he noticed how there was a slight blue tinge to his friend's skin, that with Aramis' inability to keep his eyes open for than a few seconds. That told him he didn't have long until Aramis would be lost.

So he stretched out on his stomach and pulled himself to Aramis. His friend blinked at him, his eyes dull. He grasped Aramis' wrists, and ignoring the coldness of Aramis' skin he began to pull Aramis out of the water. He heard another crack and got to his feet and ran pulled Aramis behind him. He slid onto his knees when his feet touch snow, he pulled Aramis into his arms and carried his brother to a nearby shelter of trees. He propped Aramis against a tree and collected Aramis' spare set of clothes from his saddlebag.

Swiftly he changed Aramis out of his wet clothes and changed him into the dry ones. Then he swaddled Aramis into their cloaks and all the blankets they had with them, before taking Aramis' soaked hat off his head and replaced it with his own. The bigger hat blocked Aramis' face, and Porthos thought that it was good as it would keep the biting wind off Aramis' cold face.

He tied Aramis' horse's reins to his saddle, put Aramis' hat in a saddlebag (hoping Aramis wouldn't notice and therefore lecture him about it), found some spare gloves (which were different sizes) putting them on Aramis' injured hands in attempt to protect them and then he got Aramis sat on his horse. Sitting behind Aramis he was able to keep his friend sitting upright and gave extra warmth.

He, himself, didn't feel the cold now. His worry and concern for Aramis had blocked everything else out of his mind. He pushed his horse into a trot and as quickly as he could he went to find an inn.

Thinking Aramis had dozed off he muttered to himself, "Always trying to cut my life short by scaring me. The stupid idiot. Between him and Athos I don't think I'll be alive much longer."

"I'm-m-m n-n-n-not th-that bad-d" mumbled Aramis,

Porthos shook his head and then he shook Aramis, "When will you get it through your head that I'm not leaving you no matter what happens?" Aramis shrugged. "I know you want to keep me safe, but no matter what. I. Will. Not. Leave. You remember what we say. All for One and One for All. _That_ means I won't be going anywhere. Even if you end up cutting my life short."

"St-still not-t th-that bad-d-d" protested Aramis

Porthos rolled his eyes fondly, "Yes you are. You haven't exactly had the luckiest past eighteen months have you?"

Aramis hummed in agreement and then said, "H-h-hope f-f-f-for the b-b-best-t-t, an-and plan-n-n for-r-r the worst-t-t."

"Well you weren't hoping very much then were you?" commented Porthos. Aramis snorted and chuckled, but didn't say anything more. Just talking was tiring.

* * *

Porthos had managed to find an inn close by, the man who owned it sent his young son for a Physician. Who had said Porthos had saved Aramis just in time. He also said there was no infection in the cuts on Aramis' hands, but with the cuts and bandages Aramis was going to find it hard to eat.

They stayed at the inn for three days to allow Aramis to rest. When they resumed their journey the snow had begun to thaw, thus making their journey easier. Also, most importantly for Aramis, less cold.

When they arrived at the garrison, Treville was in the courtyard they had immediately began to apologize for their lateness. Treville, however, brushed them off stating how he expected them to be late due to the weather. He then ushered them over to Serge and despite just missing lunch, Treville ordered the old cook to get something hot for Porthos and Aramis.

Much to Aramis' embarrassment, he couldn't cut his meat due to the injuries on his hands. As he suffered in silence, Porthos leaned over and quickly cut the meat, handed Aramis back the fork and resumed eating his meal without saying a thing and nobody even noticed.

Aramis smiled as he ate his food and knew he was very lucky to count Porthos as a friend. Back when he was in the river if it wasn't for Porthos on the bank, he most likely would have just let go and let himself be pulled under the water's surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! And thank you for the comments they mean an awful lot!
> 
> Next chapter will be called 'Trapped'.


	6. Trapped

" **Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light." – Helen Keller.**

* * *

The entire Musketeer Regiment (a part from a small handful who were still in Paris) were hidden in a wood a few hundred metres down the road from an old abandoned castle on the edge of Versailles. A small army of bandits had taken to living in the old castle and pillaging the surrounding area. The King himself had ordered Treville to put a stop to the bandits, who were taking control of more and more land each day. Knowing of the castle's layout before coming to Versailles Treville had searched for plans of the castle to try and find a secret way in. So far the only way in was the drawbridge, and it would be a suicide mission to attempt to enter the castle through it.

The plans were stretched out with Treville and Aramis looking over them. Aramis ran his eyes over the plans and grinned in triumph, underneath the castle ran two underground tunnels, on the left and right of the castle. Looking closer he could see that if someone was to enter through the tunnels, all they would have to do is walk to the end and then climb a flight of stairs which led to a small broom cupboard. This was the same for both tunnels. Quickly he and Treville came up with a plan, two Musketeers would enter through the tunnels, one in each. They would then open the drawbridge, and if they could, locate the leader of the bandits to end the fight before it could really begin. Knowing the risk of the plan, Aramis volunteered himself to be one of the Musketeers to go through a tunnel. Jean, who was stood nearby, also volunteered himself. Treville wished them luck and urged them to hurry.

Aramis secured his horse's reins to a branch and took his spare pistol. He looked for Porthos, out of habit really, but could not see his friend anywhere. He always tried to keep Porthos away from unnecessary danger, but there was never a point because Porthos always followed him anyway. However, this time it looked like circumstance was going to keep Porthos away. As he and Jean walked towards the edge of the treeline, he spotted Athos talking to Treville. Athos nodded to him, undoubtedly already aware of the plan, and he smiled in reply. If anything should happen to him, he knew Athos would help Porthos out.

He and Jean parted ways and so he slowly began descending down the rocky slope to the entrance of the tunnel. A couple of times he lost his footing, but managed to stay standing, but he did kick rocks loose and cursed at the sound they made. Fortunately, no alarm was raised which meant neither he nor Jean had been seen.

Soon he reached the entrance to the tunnel and peered down the dark and damp tunnel. He sighed knowing the slow dripping water was going to soak his outer layers by the time he would reach the end of the tunnel. He stepped into the entrance when he heard the sound of loosened rocks tumbling down the slope he had just come down. He drew his sword and waited. Soon footsteps were hastily approaching and so he spun around the corner just about to strike when he saw the person and quickly lowered his sword.

"Hello"

" _Hello_?!" hissed Aramis angrily, "That's all you've got to say?! I almost _killed_ you!"

"I knew you wouldn't though" chuckled Porthos, his arms crossed in front of him.

Aramis shook his head and gave his friend a small smile, "I wondered how long it would take you to catch up with me."

Porthos frowned, "Did you deliberately leave me behind because this is a risky plan?"

"No" replied Aramis, "I couldn't see you anywhere and Treville needed this done quickly. It was nothing against you personally."

Porthos hummed, "Well I hear you volunteered to do this."

Aramis shrugged, "I helped make the plan with Treville, it seemed unfair to expect someone else to do it. Jean overheard and volunteered, you just weren't close enough to be chosen I'm afraid."

"I'm here now" commented Porthos.

Aramis rolled his eyes, "By forcing me to bring you along."

"Admit it. It would have been boring without me" grinned Porthos.

Aramis chuckled shaking his head, "You do bring a sort of flair to missions I'll admit."

Porthos rubbed his hands together, "Let's get started."

"Come on then, let's show these bandits that they have no chance against Musketeers" grinned Aramis.

As they walked through the tunnel, Aramis had to admit. It felt a lot better completing this plan with Porthos beside him.

* * *

Porthos followed Aramis through the tunnel. He was confused, usually his friend tried everything he could to stop him from following Aramis into any risky situation. However, this time Aramis appeared indifferent to whether Porthos was with him or not. Also, Porthos was sure he saw relief in Aramis' eyes when they met at the entrance of the tunnel, and the relief was not just from Aramis just stopping from killing Porthos; it was something else and he intended to find out what it was.

A part of him was glad that Aramis hadn't tried to stop him from following him. Four months ago he had found Aramis almost frozen to death in a forest near Savoy with twenty dead Musketeers. For a while, even after their return to Paris, Porthos had feared Aramis would just fade away and so he was more determined than ever to make sure no harm came to his brother ever again.

They must have been halfway through the tunnel when everything went wrong.

Above them came an almighty thundering sound, the tunnel around them began to shake and dust fluttered to the floor.

"What is that?" yelled Porthos over the booming sounds,

Aramis turned and loudly replied with one word, "Cannons."

Porthos shuddered, he had only ever heard horror stories about cannons. He had not yet been involved with anything where the enemy had cannons, and he momentarily forgot that Aramis did. Aramis' first taste of battle came in 1621 with the Siege of Montauban, he was only a young man at the time and had not long been a solider. Porthos couldn't bear to imagine what horrors Aramis had faced during that siege.

"Come on! We need to get out of here!" urged Aramis, in the short silence it was taking the bandits to reload the cannons.

Porthos needed no further encouragement, especially when the cannons sounded again. He jogged behind Aramis dodging rocks and puddles all the while trying to ignore the noise like thunder above him.

He couldn't ignore it when the roof of the tunnel shook violently and with a sudden crash parts of it came hurtling to the ground. He threw his arms up and around his head as he made himself fall to the ground. Slowly the dust settled, making him cough as bits of it hit the back of his throat. While there wasn't much visibility in the tunnel there was enough light for him to see his surroundings. Raising his head up he could see Aramis a few feet away from him coughing to clear his own throat.

"You alright?" called Porthos, as he slowly pulled himself to his feet.

"I'm alive" coughed Aramis. He wiped a hand across his face to get rid of the dust that had stuck to him.

Porthos cautiously stepped past Aramis to see the damage. While bits of the roof had fallen, it had not blocked their way out, Porthos grinned and turned back to Aramis. He was confused to see Aramis still lying on his back.

"Come on! What are you waiting for? We're not trapped!" exclaimed Porthos,

Aramis sighed, "You might not be trapped."

Porthos' eyes widened, "Aramis?"

"An old beam has landed on my leg. I'm stuck" confessed Aramis, still staring up at the roof (or what was left of it) of the tunnel.

Porthos rushed over to his friend panicked, and knelt beside Aramis looking at the thick beam which had trapped his friend's left leg. "You said you were alright!"

"Technically I said I was alive" snarked Aramis, still not looking at Porthos. Instead of looking at the roof of the tunnel he was now staring blankly at the beam on his leg.

Porthos pointed at Aramis and sternly said, "You'd better not tell me to leave you here!"

"Did I say anything like that?" retorted Aramis, _finally_ meeting Porthos' gaze. He tried to pull his leg out and it was only because Porthos knew his friend so well that he knew Aramis was desperate, almost panicked.

So he rested a gentle, but firm, hand on Aramis' shoulder. "Hey, it's alright."

Aramis nodded his head once sharply, "I know."

Porthos turned back to the beam, but still with his hand on Aramis' shoulder. "Right how does your leg feel?"

"Like a beam has collapsed on it" deadpanned Aramis, following Porthos' eyes to the beam in question.

"Someone's in a bad mood" muttered Porthos, but not quietly enough.

"You would be too if you were in my position!" snapped Aramis. He closed his eyes and then looked up at Porthos, "I'm sor-"

"Don't finish what you're saying. It's alright, I'm not taking it personally" assured Porthos. In the present situation, there was something more than the beam that was stressing Aramis out and when this was all over with he was going to ask Aramis about it. "Where is the beam on your leg?"

Aramis pulled his torso up a little to look at his leg, "Well the strange thing is, I'm not in any pain. It feels like my leg landed in a hollow and the beam is just keeping it trapped there."

Porthos nodded, "That makes things a little easier. At least when I get the beam off you I don't need to worry about any injuries."

Aramis hummed in agreement, he coughed when more dust fluttered to the ground. Porthos did not miss the flinch Aramis made when the cannons started firing again.

"God I _hate_ cannons" muttered Aramis darkly.

"I'm beginning to feel the same" commented Porthos, as he stared angrily up at the roof of the tunnel.

"Beginning to?" questioned Aramis, twisting his head so he could see Porthos' face better.

"I've never had to face them before" stated Porthos shrugging.

Aramis nodded his head slowly as he lowered himself back to the ground. "Ah. They're a nasty thing, even when you're the one firing them."

"How?" asked Porthos, while they were not in the best of circumstances for telling stories. He couldn't deny his interest in what Aramis had to say. Aramis hardly ever told them anything about his life before he met them, he told them little things about his life just after joining the Musketeers and some information about his family. So whenever Aramis offered him information about his past, Porthos was there ready to listen.

"I've seen men wounded because of the recoil of the cannons. I've seen men having their legs amputated because of cannons" shuddered Aramis. "That is not something you forget easily." He softly added, his eyes taking on a faraway look and Porthos instinctively knew his brother was trapped in his memories of those events a year before the Musketeers were formed.

Worried about his friend Porthos gently, but firmly, shook Aramis' shoulder. "Hey, stay with me."

Aramis shook himself and blinked up at Porthos, "Not going anywhere."

"Good" replied Porthos, "Now let's get you out of here."

"That would be nice" sighed Aramis.

Porthos moved so he was crouched beside the beam. He turned and nodded to Aramis, once he received a sharp nod in return he used all his strength and slowly rose to his feet pulling the end of the beam on Aramis' leg up with him. Once the weight had been taken off his leg, Aramis hastily pulled himself back. He didn't stop until his back hit the opposite wall. Once Porthos saw Aramis was clear he let the beam go and walked over to Aramis, who was still sat on the ground with his left leg outstretched. He spotted Aramis' hat lying nearby and picked it up before dropping it on Aramis' head. He held out a hand and waited patiently for Aramis to grasp it, he pulled Aramis to his feet and let his brother lean on him while he regained his balance.

"Come on" spoke Aramis in a quiet voice, "We've been down here long enough." He then clapped Porthos on the shoulder before he began walking through the tunnel with only a slight limp. Porthos followed closely behind keeping a careful eye on his friend.

* * *

They had emerged from the tunnel just in time to see Jean pulling the leader of the bandits down the corridor with his hands tied behind his back. Jean momentarily paused and looked at them in confusion.

"Long story" said Aramis as he shook his head.

Jean shook himself and then nodded at them and continued taking the leader towards the courtyard of the old castle.

"We must be an interesting sight for Jean to look at us like that" commented Porthos, as he ran his fingers through his hair dislodging dust. Aramis just hummed in agreement and began brushing the dust off his clothes. They paused when footsteps on their right stopped, they turned to face Treville staring at them with an eyebrow raised.

"Do I want to know?" questioned Treville.

"We didn't do anything!" Porthos quickly assured the Captain. Treville just continued to stare at them and their gray dust covered faces.

"The tunnel collapsed Captain, due to the cannons being fired" added Aramis, Treville nodded and the stern look vanished from his face.

"Are you both alright?"

"Yes Captain" they chorused.

"Good" nodded Treville, "Now get yourselves to the courtyard. We'll be leaving shortly."

They nodded and began to walk towards the courtyard when Treville's voice stopped them. "Oh and Aramis."

"Yes Captain?" asked Aramis, as he turned.

"When we return to Pairs I'll be sure to inform the King that it was your idea that got us into the castle."

"Sir?"

Treville smiled, he approached Aramis and clapped him on the shoulder. "If it wasn't for your idea of using the tunnels to gain entrance into the castle. Jean would not have been able to let us in and capture the leader with no Musketeers lost. You saved a lot of lives with your plan." With another small smile Treville was gone, leaving a shocked Aramis behind.

Porthos was grinning broadly and clapped Aramis on the shoulder, "You should be proud of yourself." He said seeing Aramis' blank face.

"Because I saved Musketeers? Why should I? Just four months ago I failed twenty of our brothers and today I almost got you killed. What is there to be proud of?" scoffed Aramis. He began to walk away when Porthos shot out a hand and pulled Aramis back to face him.

"Listen. You _have_ to stop blaming yourself about what happened in Savoy. And you did not almost get me killed today!" stressed Porthos.

Aramis shook his head, "It was my plan to go through the tunnels and part of our tunnel collapsed! By not telling you to leave I was risking your life even more!"

Porthos frowned, "While I would not have left you. Why didn't you tell me to leave like you always do?"

Aramis sighed and bowed his head, "Because I was scared. I was scared that if I told you to leave and you did, I could die alone. And that scares me. Since the massacre…" he took a sharp shaky breath and continued a little louder, almost at a shout. "Because of my own fears I almost cost you your life!"

"Hey, hey" soothed Porthos, he rubbed a hand up and down one of Aramis' arms. A part of him hating Marsac even more for leaving Aramis with the fear of being alone. "You don't have to feel bad about that. It's alright."

Aramis looked up and met Porthos' gaze and gave his friend a small smile.

Porthos grinned and with one arm around Aramis' shoulders he guided his brother out of the castle commenting. "Do you know what is also great about today? You've _finally_ got it into your thick skull that no matter what. I'm not leaving you behind!" Aramis chuckled, a sound that lightened Porthos' heart. He now knew what had been bothering Aramis and he was glad he helped his friend.

As they stepped through the old grand entrance doorway into the courtyard, they blinked against the sudden bright sunlight. Once their eyes had adjusted to the sunlight they found Athos stood a few feet in front of them.

"I see you two got yourselves into another mess" Athos commented dryly as he took in their dusty appearances.

"It's not like we went looking for trouble!" Porthos protested loudly.

"Fine" drawled Athos, "Trouble just follows you like a dog follows its master."

Aramis pointed a finger at Athos, as Porthos leaned an arm on Aramis' shoulder. "Don't leave yourself out of your own statement. You are just as bad as us in getting into messes. I'm _sure_ Treville would agree to that."

Athos stared at them with a blank look before he turned and walked over to his own horse.

"You know. I think he's starting to lighten up" grinned Porthos.

"I have to agree with you there my friend" smiled Aramis, with his smile finally reaching his eyes. "I do believe we are progressing in giving Athos a sense of humor."

"Couldn't agree more" chuckled Porthos.

They then made their way over to their horses and thanked the Musketeers who had led them over. Soon they would be back in Paris where everything would return to normal, as they tormented Athos with their antics. But always sticking together and never leaving the other behind, just as they always would.

**The End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I have got the timeline of the series slightly wrong; with Savoy being four months ago and Athos being a Musketeer for almost two years (when both happened in 1625). But I just wanted to use Savoy as a reference in this chapter, so please forgive me!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! And I hope you have enjoyed reading this story!


End file.
